The Shepherd: Part One Lamb to Slaughter
by lightcudder
Summary: Ed Straker is found dead.   Prologue re-written


**The Shepherd: 1 **

**Lamb to Slaughter**

A UFO Story

By

Lightcudder

©October 2010

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners.

The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story.

The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material.

No copyright infringement is intended.

**Prologue;**

The dim light in the alleyway pooled down onto the huddled figure. This late at night, in this less salubrious area of London, there were few late-night revellers. Not even an insomniac dog-walker. But the man had been spotted nonetheless. It was dealt with in the usual efficient manner. Photographs, forensic evidence, SOCO's. Processed, collated, labelled. Then the body removed to the central morgue for the next step. Formal identification and cause of death.

Frowns, worried voices, urgent phone calls. And Alec Freeman found himself driving, late in the night, in answer to the command. He did not question the instruction. Freeman was used to obeying awkward orders, but he was troubled. Why him? Why not Ed Straker?

His pass let him through the security barriers, and he followed the silent guard down corridors that were empty at this late hour, to a small room, the colours on the wall soft and muted, and a window in the wall dividing it from an adjoining, larger and very clinical room. Alec felt sweaty, clammy with fear, with apprehension, and with that indefinable certainty that something was most definitely very, very wrong.

There was another man in the room, his back to Freeman, staring through the glass partition. Alec stepped up beside him to see, in the adjacent room, a mortuary table. Green cloth covering an unmistakable shape. Freeman moved closer as the attendant lifted the cloth and folded it back to reveal the face beneath.

Ed Straker. Freeman sagged against the window, one hand reaching out, his voice faint and threadbare. "Ed. What happened to you?'

The man turned to face him. 'The initial examination of the body did not reveal any obvious cause. So, you have no idea why Straker was in London last night, without his protection detail?'

'No. none at all. He was going home when I saw him last.' It was hard to get the words out. Ed. SHADO Commander, Ed Straker. Dead. His friend, dead. 'Where was he found?'

There was a pause. 'In an alleyway. No signs of a struggle, not even any bruising on the body. But the autopsy will no doubt reveal the cause of death.' He held out one hand to Freeman. 'Let me introduce myself. Mason Rimmer. SIS. Currently in charge of overseeing security and protection with regard to persons who are considered to be politically important. Mr. Straker was one of my responsibilities. His death is a matter of grave concern as well as a severe embarrassment.' Rimmer gave a brief, cursory glance through the partition at Straker's body, 'Straker had two members of his protection detail assigned to him last night. There has been no contact with either of them. I must assume that they are also dead. Now if you will excuse me.' The SIS officer nodded a curt farewell and left.

The bleak grey corridor stretched in front of Alec Freeman, the glass partition on his left separating him from his friend now lying on a cold hard stretcher behind that barrier.

Dear God. Ed. The finality thumped into him like an unexpected punch to the stomach, with almost the same effect. He struggled for breath, almost vomiting with the sudden realization of what had transpired. His heart pounding with the rush of shock of adrenaline flooding through him, he placed one shaking hand on the glass, as if that simple contact could awaken his friend, could make the man on the table push himself upright, open his eyes, turn to his friend and smile, that slight, quirky, too seldom-seen smile.

But Straker was unmoving. Lifeless, and; Alec could hardly bear to think the word but it filled his mind despite his protestations; dead.

He turned away, sickened and distressed. One shoulder against the bare wall, head leaning against the rough concrete as if it was an effort to even hold that upright, he reached into his breast pocket, pulled out his mobile and dialled, although how he was going to tell her, he had no idea at all.

'Harlington Straker Studios. Mr. Straker's office.' Miss Ealand's calm voice cut through the racing turmoil of his thoughts.

He tried to speak, tried to remain focused, but his emotions betrayed him as he struggled to force the words out. 'Miss Ealand, it's... ' he stopped, his voice stifled in his throat.

'Mr Freeman? Are you all right?' the concern in her voice was almost too much to bear, but he took a deep breath, clenched his fist around the phone and enunciated each separate word as a drunken man might speak. It was the only way he would be able to get the words out.

'Miss Ealand. Ed Straker.' He paused, took a deep breath, pushed each separate syllable out past lips that seemed frozen, numb, duplicitous. 'Ed... he..''

'Mr Freeman, are you all right? Do you want to speak to Mr Straker? He hasn't come….'

'No.' He had to stop her, had to tell her... 'He's dead. Miss Ealand, he's dead.'

'Who? Who is?' her voice sharp, shocked, curt with awful premonition.

And finally, Alec Freeman, aware that he was now acting Commander-in-Chief of SHADO, composed himself, straightened his stiff shoulders in a vain attempt to loosen them, one hand tugging at his jacket in an unconscious imitation of the man lying there, cold, still, breathless, in the stark silent room and he answered her.

'Miss Ealand; I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Ed Straker is dead. I don't know what happened yet; I'm at the medical examiner's office right now. I need you to notify General Henderson that Commander Straker's body was discovered yesterday evening in suspicious circumstances. I'll be returning to Headquarters as soon as I have completed the necessary arrangements and spoken to the authorities. Can you contact Paul Foster and ask him to get back in as soon as possible? But don't talk to anyone else. I'll tell the staff myself when I arrive.' And he closed the connection before unvoiced loss and sadness overwhelmed him utterly.

This story is being continued on **The Ed Straker Herald**


End file.
